


By the Fireside

by Afoolforatook, alphaparrot, Amber_Aglio, BrianneABanana, delta_altair, Nemomo, satariraine, StoryWeaverKirea, TesseractTown, TheCraftyNinjaCat, thedarkpoet, Victorious56



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Nonsense game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afoolforatook/pseuds/Afoolforatook, https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphaparrot/pseuds/alphaparrot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Aglio/pseuds/Amber_Aglio, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrianneABanana/pseuds/BrianneABanana, https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_altair/pseuds/delta_altair, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemomo/pseuds/Nemomo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/satariraine/pseuds/satariraine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryWeaverKirea/pseuds/StoryWeaverKirea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TesseractTown/pseuds/TesseractTown, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCraftyNinjaCat/pseuds/TheCraftyNinjaCat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkpoet/pseuds/thedarkpoet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: In the Mistrali Wilds, Qrow and Clover rest by the campfire. As the conversation carries over the fire, they're surprised to soon find they aren't alone.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Nonsense Game





	By the Fireside

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Nonsense Game (Fair Game Effect Discord server) for the prompt Mistrali Wilds: Campfire.
> 
> Order of writers:  
> delta_altair  
> Amber_Aglio  
> TheCraftyNinjaCat  
> BrianneABanana  
> Nemomo  
> alphaparrot  
> TesseractTown  
> Victorious56  
> Afoolforatook  
> StoryWeaverKirea  
> thedarkpoet  
> satariraine

It was a beautiful night. A soft breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Stars peeked through the canopy overhead. A low drone of humming insects was occasionally punctuated by nocturnal bird calls. In front of Qrow, a small campfire burned steadily, providing enough warmth to be comfortable. The dry twigs crackled and popped, and small flecks of embers swirled up from the fire and out into night air. 

Qrow sat in front of the fire, legs stretched out in front of him. He glanced to his right where Clover sat, legs crossed, chin in the palm of his hand, eyes on the sky, looking at the stars with rapt attention. Qrow felt a smile spread across his face, before he looked back into the blazing core of the campfire.

He took a long, deep breath. Making camp in the heart of the Mistrali wilderness brought back a lot of memories, few of them pleasant. It reminded Qrow too much of the tribe, of barbed words and glares of mistrust. 

But that was a long time ago, and now, he had much better company with him. Clover had gone out of his way, time and time again, to make sure that Qrow knew he was more than just his semblance. Qrow had balked at Clover's praise at first, decades of self deprecation and shame making for thick armour. But Clover's patient insistence eventually paid off, and Qrow had started to let the other man into his heart.

"Qrow?"

He pulled his gaze away from the campfire to turn to Clover, who was now looking directly at him. The glow of the fire cast his features in a warm light, highlighting his jawline and reflecting in his teal eyes. Qrow felt his mouth go a little dry.

Clover smiled, before softly asking, "You grew up in these forests, right?"

* * *

Qrow looked away, swallowing to get his mouth to work again. Clover had this uncanny ability of throwing him off his game with the most innocuous gestures or questions, and Qrow sometimes wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “Sort of? We never really stayed in one place for long… So I can’t say I remember any location very well.”

He watched intensely as both of their shadows danced, growing brighter or dimmer, moving along with the tendrils of the flame. “What I mean to say, the forest isn’t exactly what I think of when I remember growing up. The Grimm attacks, the raids, running into an occasional Huntsman… It was… kind of intense. And whatever nostalgic feelings I had… have pretty much disappeared when I started coming back here to keep an eye on Raven after she… you know.”

He looked back up to try and figure out Clover’s reaction and found him looking at him with the same attentive softness that made Qrow’s cheeks grow warm. Clover reached out to squeeze Qrow’s hand silently, and then turned away to poke the logs with a stick. The fire crackled, coughing out sparks, and lit up Clover’s face with a mischievous smile.

“So, do you have any bird friends around here?” he asked far too casually.

Qrow choked on the inhale. “Excuse me, what?!”

Clover’s smile widened and he repeated the question with the same politely curious tone. The fire merrily continued devouring the logs, the wind kept howling in the trees, and only Qrow’s brain refused to work as intended.

* * *

He coughed, gaze scanning the trees, “Uh...no. I can’t...I mean, I can change  _ into _ a bird but I don’t have-”

A stifled snicker caught his attention, and he turned back to Clover. His face had split into a full grin, and he looked like he was trying to hold back his laughter to little avail.

“I was kidding, you know. But after that reaction you’ve made me kind of curious.”

Ah, so he was joking. Despite himself, Qrow managed a strained chuckle in return. It was a pretty funny thought, the idea of befriending a normal crow. Maybe if he got a bunch on his side, he could gather an army of them. Now  _ that  _ would be ridiculous.

Come to think of it, if he counted Raven he could say he had a ‘bird friend’ once. But after Haven, he doubted he could call her his  _ sister _ , let alone a  _ friend. _

The conversation died down, leaving the sound of the crackling fire. Qrow shifted uncomfortably in his spot, unsure of what to say next.

* * *

It wasn’t that he was  _ bad _ at idle conversation… Qrow Branwen had an ample amount of practice talking about anything other than himself and his issues, so topics were always on hand in his mind to bring out if needed: Politics in various kingdoms, weapon designs he’d seen recently, and teasing questions about  _ other people's _ vices. Those kinds of things were easy to redirect from himself to others.

In this situation though, he was surrounded by who he considered family. Family being extremely difficult to deflect away from himself with.  _ There goes his go-to topics… _

Qrow internally sighed and decided to resign himself to his misfortune fate. He might as well bring up one of the few elephants in the room- er… campfire circle?  _ Whatever. _

“So uh…” he started, looking away from everyone and rubbing the back of his head. “Wanna know something cool about my bird form?”

* * *

Silence followed, only broken by the crackling of the fire and a few crickets chirping.

* * *

"No."

* * *

Qrow shot Jaune a look. “Look, goldenboy, just because it happened  _ one time _ , doesn’t mean--”

“Wait!” Ren interjected, shushing them, his eyes suddenly wide. Silence descended, as they all turned to Ren. Ren was sitting stock-still, hyper-alert. Slowly, his hand drifted to StormFlower.

“What is it?” Ruby hissed. “Grimm?”

Ren closed his eyes, concentrating. “No. Someone’s here,” he said quietly. 

Several hands went quietly to their weapons, ears all straining to hear what Ren had picked up on.

The fire crackled, each pop and hiss of sap provoking small flinches. A cricket chirped. The leaves of the trees overhead rustled gently in the night air, buoyed by the rising hot air from the fire.

A twig snapped. A bush rustled as something moved past it.

Everyone leapt to their feet, weapons drawn. The air filled with the sound of metal sliding on metal, Jaune and Weiss drawing their swords, Kingfisher extending to its full length, Qrow and Ruby’s weapons unfolding into their scythe forms with a series of  _ ka-chunks _ , and Yang’s gauntlets clicking into place.

“Who’s there?” Clover asked, Kingfisher held before him at the ready.

A slender figure stepped out of the brush, provoking several gasps. Qrow felt his grip on Harbinger tighten.

“Emerald?” Blake asked.

Emerald Sustrai stood in the wavering firelight. Her hair was disheveled, and contained small bits of leaves. Her pants and top had been torn, and along with her hazelnut skin were smudged with dirt. She looked back and forth between the members of the party, sighed, and sank to her knees, tears pooling in her large red eyes, glimmering with the dancing light of the flames. 

“Please,” she said, her voice hoarse, almost a whisper.

* * *

Qrow gets up and stands in front of the girl that had just sank to her knees, harbinger out, ready to strike if anything comes up.

“What do you want? Why are you here,” Qrow seemingly growls out.

“You let Cinder do all of those horrible things!” Ruby cries out to Emerald, pulling out Crescent Rose and stalking towards her.

Qrow puts an arm out to block Ruby when Clover speaks up.

“Let’s hear her side of the story first yeah?”

“With all due respect, you weren’t even there Clover!” Ruby says with a raised voice.

Qrow sighs, still on guard, “I agree, let’s hear her out first.”

Emerald looks up and holds her arm out, which seemingly had a cut on it that was oozing blood, it needed stitches; it was a deep cut.

Clover sees the blood and hurries off to get the medical kit.

Qrow sighs, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for a second just because you are hurt, but that does  _ not  _ mean that we won’t be on our guard.”

Emerald nods and moves to sit in a more comfortable position as Clover walks over to her with the medical kit as he starts to patch up the cut on her arm.

“This will need stitches, but this should do for now.”

Emerald nods and gives her thanks when Qrow squats down next to Clover, Ruby close behind him.

“So what happened?”

* * *

“Well… that’s the problem. I don’t remember. Not all of it, anyway…”  She tails off, looking away.

“What  _ do _ you remember?” Ruby’s voice is low, her eyes fixed on Emerald’s face.

“I was traveling… there were other people there, but I don’t remember… I don’t know who they were.” Her eyes are wide as she stares into the fire. “There was an accident. It was an airship, and it crashed. I don’t know why…”

Ruby shifts impatiently. Yang rests a hand on her shoulder. “How do we know this isn’t some trick? Mercury and the others are out there somewhere, just waiting for your signal?”

Emerald frowns. “Do I know someone called Mercury?”

Qrow and Clover exchange a look across the heads of the others.

“You, stay there.” Qrow pushes himself to his feet, pulling Clover’s hand to help him up. Ruby looks up at him anxiously. “Just keep an eye on her for now, kiddo.”

Emerald slumps down, shoulders drooping as her eyes gaze at the flames.

“Is this for real?” Qrow’s voice is quiet, yet urgent.

“I just don’t know.” Clover runs a hand through his hair. “She seems genuine, but… maybe she’s just a good actor.”

“Well, that injury is real enough. Yang and Ruby aren’t convinced yet, though.”

Clover glances back towards the fire. “Not surprising, given what’s happened previously. But if there  _ was _ a crash, and Emerald  _ is  _ telling the truth about her memory loss…”

“What the hell do we do with her now?” Qrow’s voice is hard as he looks at Clover’s face, the firelight causing flickering shadows to pass across it.

* * *

Clover turns back to Qrow, his face set in thought, but a bit softer than Qrow’s. 

“Well, we can’t just leave her to fend for herself with an injury like that. I say for now we keep a close eye on her, watch for any faults in her story.”

Qrow sighs, crossing his arms. He knows Clover is right, but he also knows how dangerous the girl could be without giving herself away. The first sparks of chaos during the Vytal festival replaying in his mind. 

“What do we do about her semblance though?” 

* * *

Clover hums in thought. “Well even with her illusions, she still can’t talk so we just have to say or do something that has to elicit a verbal response.”

Qrow nods his head in agreement and says, “It should be something that only we would say to each other.”

“How about ‘I love you’?” Clover suggests with a cheeky smile which Qrow flusters at.

“I am not saying that to one of Neo’s illusions just to make sure!” Qrow tells him vehemently.

Clover simply laughs and says, “I was just kidding! I don’t want to say it to anyone but you either.”

Qrow knows his face is hot, knows that turning away is only drawing more attention to his blush. He knows he doesn’t need to be embarrassed - Clover would tell him so, if he said how he was feeling. So he swallows it down, and says instead.

“I love you.”

The fire flares up between them, sparks floating gently on the evening breeze. Qrow watches Clover’s eyes catch the light. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of looking at Clover. The other man is so open; joy comes easily to him in a way it never used to for Qrow. 

That happiness has been less elusive since they met.

“I love you, Qrow,” Clover says, and there’s nothing casual about his tone, but he says it like loving Qrow is the easiest thing in the world.

* * *

It’s spoken so simply, so sincerely, that Qrow finds himself believing it almost effortlessly. 

Clover hasn’t dropped his gaze. It’s as warm as the crackling campfire next to them, a gentle embrace. The confidence there isn’t a surprise, of course not - this is Clover he’s talking about. But it’s the gentleness there in those green eyes, Qrow finds - the patience, the slight twist of something akin to mischief in case he speaks against anything Clover has to say. 

Not that he would, not now. Not with this. 

The smile Clover wears paired with his those three words makes Qrow know the warmth on his face isn’t just from the campfire. It’s almost ridiculous, even if there’s a bit of relief at seeing the matching flush on Clover’s cheeks. 

With a laugh under his breath, Qrow’s eyes fall to the fire and he watches how the flames curl into the air, fading away into stark embers. Clover’s watching it, too, his eyes no longer locked with his own. The silence ticks away with each crack of the fire, the splintering wood counting every half minute Qrow waits and wonders when his heart will quiet down.

He knows he’s not expected to reply. He knows Clover would accept his silence as much as a content smile, a smart comment or a cheeky grin. And it’s almost tempting to give him something expected, a patented Qrow reponse that’ll cause Clover’s lips to twitch into a grin, his eyes to narrow in amusement, his voice to dip into that smooth tone that somehow still gives him goosebumps along the back of his neck.

It’s tempting, but instead he reaches over to where Clover’s hand was resting at his side, and wraps it in his own.

For a moment, it feels too simple. But there’s a barely audible hitch of breath beside him, a sound it’d be easy enough to pass off as a misplaced breath, a sigh - not the sound that lets Qrow know he has his own ways to give as good as he gets. It’s honestly simple, the way Clover shifts their hands to lace their fingers together, and the way Qrow laughs quietly and squeezes once, twice, hard enough to feel it beyond the comforting warmth of the fire.

Clover said those words as simply as breathing. 

And so will he.


End file.
